


Semper Fidelis

by Tennyo



Series: In Dreams [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel POV, Dean pretends his feelings for Cas don't exist, Episode: s09e21 King of the Damned, Fix-It of Sorts, Gabriel Lives, Gadreel knows it, Gen, Headcanon, I gave angels some random names, Inspired by other works, M/M, Metatron is a douche, References to Dean/Cas in previous chapters, clever Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 08:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1851715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tennyo/pseuds/Tennyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel Point of View (Mostly Cas) prior to and during 9x21, King of the Damned.</p><p>You don't need to read the other parts before this, just know that... <i>things</i> happened between Dean and Cas in dreamwalking sessions prior to this occurring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Semper Fidelis

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so apparently red-shirt's name is Benjamin. I've gone back and hopefully fixed it all.

Metatron is at his typewriter, clacking away leisurely at the keys. Gadreel is standing off to one side, leaning against a desk covered in figurines, knick-knacks, books and papers. He looks down at one of the papers and lifts it, reading. It’s one of Metatron’s typed pages. He reads it over and furrows one brow. Then, he lifts his head, staring at Metatron expectantly.

The so-called god can feel the stare and stops typing, removes the wire-frame glasses he wears for effect, and turns to Gadreel who has one eyebrow raised.

“What.”

“I believe you misspelled something here.” Gadreel flicks his eyes to the page and back up at Metatron. “Eno _chain_?” He manages to keep one eyebrow raised while scrunching up his forehead inquisitively.

Metatron rolls his eyes. “It’s a first draft, stopping to fix typos interrupts the creative process.”

With a flat look, Gadreel turns the paper around, pointing to an underlined word.

MERTATON

“You misspelled your own name.”

Blinking quickly, Metatron stumbles stiffly, “This vessel is dyslexic.” With a sniff, he snatches the paper from Gadreel’s hand, trying to put on a dignified air. “All _typos_ can be fixed during the rewrite. Besides, don’t you need to go check on our guest?”

With a tilted nod of his head, Gadreel says, “Of course,” and turns on his heel, exiting the room and closing the door on his way out.

Metatron sneers at the closed door, then back down at the crumpled page in his hand. “Typos,” he pouts, tossing the page to one side. He puts on his wire-rimmed glasses and wiggles his fingers before once again clacking away on the typewriter.

Gadreel makes his way to a closed steel door completely covered in sigils and wards. There is an angel guarding the door and when Gadreel nods to him, he nods in return and walks away. Unlocking and opening the door, Gadreel faces the archangel Gabriel, bound with shackles and kneeling inside a ring of holy fire. Glowing sigils cover every surface of the small room that is barely larger than a broom closet. Gabriel’s golden wings glow softly in the light of some kind of wiry binding that tightly wraps around them, keeping them drawn together at his back.

When Gadreel was first shown the bound archangel, he was at once both horrified and awed. Gabriel had snarled and thrown insults at both him and Metatron, glowing with the power of his contained Grace. Metatron refused to explain the reason for binding the archangel this way, or how Gabriel had wings that seemed unharmed and fully functional, requiring binding. But Metatron had explained Gabriel was a traitor to his kind, that he had fallen in with other gods. He was not to be trusted and had become the visage of the Norse Trickster demigod Loki. Of all the damnable things his brothers had done, to completely turn his back on their Father and integrate into another religion… it was unthinkable.

After Metatron had revealed himself to Castiel and started his plan in motion, it was discovered that Gabriel had somehow altered his bindings and sigils, possibly preparing an escape. So Gadreel was sent periodically to check on the rogue archangel to make sure he was still tightly bound. Gabriel had visibly weakened since then. His shoulders slump as if from exhaustion, his head hanging limply when Gadreel first looks him over. Hands that used to be clenched into fists now hang limply against his thighs as he sits on his heels.

The most obvious change has been his wings. Once glowing golden and bright, they now are dimmed as if tarnished, the glowing bindings highlighting darkened contours of feathers. But Gabriel’s eyes. When he raises his head, they still hold that fierce defiance, albeit the glow in them has also diminished, the golden color of his vessel’s irises more noticeable. Even though the vessel’s face looks haggard, he still manages to smirk.

“I see it’s the lapdog this time. Metatwat too busy writing his little fanfiction to come see me himself?”

While Gadreel had started doubting Metatron’s plan, he does not want to show that doubt to the enemy, so he straightens his back and looks at the bound angel threateningly.

“How _dare_ you speak of Metatron that way! He is the one that gave me a chance at redemption, after I have been locked away for millennia for one mistake! He is trying to be a leader, trying to undo the terrible mistakes our brethren have made. That _Castiel_ made.

Gabriel sneers up at him. “You are just as gullible as Cas, too. Maybe more, since you’ve been locked up so long. But you’ve spent time in Sammy’s noggin, haven’t you? Can you seriously think that what you’re doing is any better than the last-ditch attempts our little brother _died multiple times_ for?” He rocks his head back so he can look down at Gadreel. “Ever think there’s a reason he kept coming back? You have no idea what your boss has planned, do you? If I wasn’t bound to keep from spilling the beans…”

Gadreel is taken aback by those words, because after everything that had happened, Sam Winchester _did_ trust Castiel. The human even considered the angel… as family. He also knows Metatron tricked Castiel into helping him gather ingredients for the spell that cast the angels from Heaven. No. He can’t let this trickster see any weakness. After all, he apparently faked his death at the hands of Lucifer after gaining the Winchester’s trust.

“You cannot fool me, _Trickster_. I have been fooled once before into lowering my guard, and we all know the result of that.”

Gabriel sags as if defeated and shrugs. “Well, can’t blame a guy for trying.”

As Gadreel closes the door to Gabriel’s prison, the archangel calls out, “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a candybar on you, would ya?”

Gadreel sighs, resting his head against the concrete wall next to the steel door. Interacting with the rogue archangel is exhausting, but Gabriel had a point. Metatron was also known for manipulation of truths. But he is too invested, having killed the prophet Kevin Tran, and then Abner. He closes his eyes at the pain of having to take the life of his close friend and cellmate.  However, the rewards will outweigh the costs, for Metatron promised a return to Heaven, with reward to all who follow him.

 

* * *

 

Castiel closes the door to his office after roll-call. He’s beginning to understand why their father had disappeared. Leading the angels willing to follow him is exhausting. They must be given exact orders or there will be the inevitable questions of what to do next. Some have at least begun to grasp the concept of individual thought, and those he has placed in leadership positions, which has helped lighten the burden. But more come every day, and as the number grows, so does the strain on his flagging Grace.

After his last dreamwalk with Dean, he has experimented with restricting the use of Grace and has found a half-human compromise. It leaves him relatively weak, but allows him to do his duty while conserving what is left. He also takes time out of the day for what he calls “contemplation”, which is really a power-nap. He can’t let the others know about the Grace he took from Theo, or that it will eventually run out, essentially ending him, leaving them without a leader. Hopefully they can defeat Metatron before then. Wearily, he sits at his desk, looking at the printed reports of angelic activity across the globe. If only they can find where he’s hiding, find a way to get back into Heaven.

Castiel closes his eyes for a moment, only to have someone knock on his door. Quickly, he sits up and puts on a serious face.

“Come.”

Benjamin, one of the angels sent out as scouts,  opens the door wide and enters. “Good news, Commander. We have captured one of Metatron’s angels. We believe he may have vital information about Metatron’s plans.”

Castiel stands and makes his way around the desk. “Take me to him.”

As he steps out of his office, he pauses to look over all the other angels working hard. It is amazing how quickly they have been able to put all this together in such a short time. But then again, it was fortuitous that they were able to acquire this building. Benjamin is waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, and he continues until they reach the hallway they have designated for prisoners and interrogation.

He pauses. “I’ll be right there. I just need to do something first.”

As the other angel turns away, he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and brings up Dean’s number. He was supposed to call if he found information on Metatron, and this is it. Pressing the Send button, he holds the phone to his ear. It only rings once before he can hear the line is open. Before Dean can even say hello, Castiel is speaking, rushing though the words.

“Dean, it’s Castiel. We’ve found someone who should know Metatron’s whereabouts. I’ll text you the location.” Dean’s reply is brisk and the man disconnects before he can say anything else.

Dean. Is coming. Here. This will be the first time they will have spoken face-to-face since learning about the mark. And since… the dreamwalking… Castiel can feel a flush creep up his cheeks, and he quickly schools the human response before striding down the hallway toward the open door. He can hear the conversation inside, and then as he gets closer, “Is that... him?” “It is.”

He understands the importance of making an entrance, so he pauses when he reaches the doorway, turns and slowly walks into the room, his expression schooled to appear stern. The angel is chained to a chair and dressed casually, in a vessel that looks older than his own. As he glares down at the frightened looking angel, Benjamin turns to him.

“This is Ezra, sir. He claims to be one of the inner circle. Says he was chosen by Metatron himself.”

Castiel doesn’t waver his gaze upon the angel as he responds, “Very well, you may go now.”

With a nod, Benjamin leaves, pulling the door closed; the Enochian sigils painted on the glass window preventing escape. Castiel takes a few more steps forward, looming over the captured angel.

“Tell me what you know.”

 

* * *

 

Castiel is frustrated, having gotten nothing useful from their prisoner. He does not wish to hurt him, and even hopes to make him realize how foolish it is to follow Metatron’s plan. While looking over new information that has come in, there’s a knock on the open door to his office.

“Sir,”

Castiel turns to see Dean and Sam at the entrance. Dean. He looks well, albeit a trifle tired. The man enters the room, and… Dare he imagine it? He looks happy to see him, holding his arms open. Is that a gesture for a hug? From Dean? Castiel tries to restrain his joy, as he briefly looks into Dean’s eyes before wrapping his arms around him, squeezing tightly. Having learned how hugs can be interpreted, he goes for a neutral over-under, right arm across Dean’s shoulder, left around his waist. He closes his eyes at the sensation of Dean’s arms sliding around him, hands briefly clapping his back before the left arm slides away too soon. But the right hand lingers on his lower back, and Castiel clings just a second longer.

But Dean is already beginning to turn away, so Castiel pulls back quickly, then turns to give Sam a similar hug of appropriate length. But he can sense Dean’s tension. Even though he promised he wouldn’t act any different, he knows he is socially awkward, and tends to say and do things considered inappropriate. He shows Dean he isn’t favoring him by holding on to Sam after the hug is over. He turns to Benjamin and sees the uncomfortable look on the angel’s face at the level of intimacy he has displayed with the human brothers. Why doesn’t he just leave?

“Umm… dismissed.”

As the angel finally leaves, Castiel gives a sigh, because he should have realized the angel was awaiting further instructions. Castiel would like nothing more than to step close to Dean and look him in the eyes, perhaps feel him in his arms again. But both brothers seem awkward as they view his office, so he tries to lighten the atmosphere.

Shoving his hands in his coat pockets, he says, “He can be a little stuffy,” hoping they catch the irony of how stiff Castiel himself used to act. Sam is wearing his confused and concerned face, while Dean is desperately appearing to act casual with his body at an angle, looking at Castiel from the corner of his eye.

Dean gives an expectant look as he says, “So, Commander?”

Looking everywhere but at Dean to avoid eye contact, Castiel replies, somewhat embarrassed, “Yeah, not my idea.” His eyes can’t help but track to Dean, and he stares at his shirt collar. “They had no leader, and they insisted on following me.”

Dean also appears to be avoiding eye contact, “Yeah, no, we get it. You're a rock star.” He gives a smile and head nod, and Castiel curls his fingers into the fabric of his coat pockets to remain standing still at the semi-sarcastic compliment, warmth pooling in his belly at the sound of Dean’s voice.

He gives up the fight, letting his eyes settle on Dean’s face, drawn to the green of the man’s eyes. “Bartholomew is dead.” He barely notices as Sam turns away, his focus on Dean as the man looks back at him. “Malachi was murdered by Gadreel, and with Metatron as powerful as he is now, I needed to do something.”

They both look toward Sam as he  speaks, “So this war between angels is really gonna happen, huh?"

“Not if I can find a diplomatic option for getting rid of Metatron.”

Dean says, “Good luck with that,” while poking around the paperwork on his desk.

“Dean, this angel-on-angel violence…” the man is once again refusing to look at him, “it has to end. Someone has to say enough.”

Dean’s eyes lock on briefly until he notices Sam coming closer to respond. “And that someone is you?”

Here comes the difficult part, and he’s afraid they’ll take it the wrong way. Focusing more on Sam to avoid increased awkwardness, Castiel starts, “That brings me to why you're here. We have a prisoner. An angel from Metatron's inner circle. I need to know what they're planning. So far, he's revealed nothing.

Dean’s arms are crossed and his jaw is tight. He’s obviously not happy. “So you're done with the rough stuff, and you want us to be your goons?”

It hurts Castiel, the look that Dean gives him. “Well, you've had success at these situations before.” He can see Dean’s eyes become hard, falling into a more professional, almost predatory stance.

“If you don't want to do it, I understand.”

Dean’s eyes trail down Castiel’s body before locking back onto his own, and if he didn’t have his responses on lockdown, he knows he would be reacting to it. “Who says I don't want to do it?”

Sam’s head snaps around to look at his brother, tension in his jaw. “Dean.”

Holding up his hands, Castiel gets their attention. “I don’t believe this will require violence.”

The brothers turn to him, obviously confused. “One of the reasons I need you here, is because… angels are notorious for their inability to “act”.” He uses air quotes. “I assume you’re familiar with the ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine?”

He has both of their attentions now, “Several procedural shows use this tactic, but there’s a different method I believe will be effective.”

Sam and Dean both gape openly for a moment as Castiel outlines what he has in mind. Castiel knows how sensitive angels can be to trickery. He hopes that with the boys’ help that Ezra, who used to be a very low-ranked angel in Heaven, can be tricked into giving up information. Dean’s expression melts from shocked to impressed by the time he finishes. The brothers pick it up from there, as Castiel injects helpful remarks. The boys add an element of teasing and ridicule into the plan. He tries to focus on Sam during the discussion, but he can occasionally feel Dean’s eyes on him. However, as soon as he looks toward the man, Dean’s eyes dart away.

After the idea has been crafted into a plan, the brothers are directed to Ezra’s holding cell.

Castiel waits anxiously as the Winchesters interrogate the prisoner. Dean was alarmingly enthusiastic about the idea of violently interrogating the angel. Castiel remembers when he had to ask Dean to torture Alastair. The man had been extremely distressed about the idea of revisiting the skill he perfected in Hell. But now, the effect of the Mark seems to have made him almost relish the idea. And the openly heated look he had in his eye when he said, “Who says I don't want to do it?” Castiel places his head in his hands.

“Oh Dean, what are you becoming?” He’s afraid he knows the answer.

 

* * *

 

Sam and Dean are in the process of letting Castiel know what they learned during the interrogation when an angel bursts into his office.

“Commander! The prisoner!”

They rush down to the room to find Ezra dead, stabbed on the chest.

Back in his office, again, they discuss this new development. He trusts that they have done nothing to the angel, especially with Sam by Dean’s side the whole time. While the Winchesters are seated, he can’t help but remain standing, too upset by the attack within his own base to even pretend to relax.

The thought that another angel here could be duplicitous enough to be working for Metatron… And then Dean’s remark: “You don’t think anybody’s lying. I think everybody’s lying.” It makes his chest hurt to see the cynicism within Dean having grown to the point he no longer trusts anyone. And it’s not that Castiel thinks everyone is truthful, just… Well, perhaps he has grown too accustomed to the way angels typically behave, so involved in trying to lead it never occurred to him one might do something like this.

When Dean gets up to leave to “nose around”, Castiel feels like he has failed. Again. What can he possibly do to turn this around? Something about what the Winchesters said about when they had captured Gadreel strikes him, and he stops Sam before he exits the office. After a brief discussion about Sam’s impressions of the angel while he had been possessed, he thinks… maybe, just maybe, he can turn this around.

When he’s sure the Winchesters are occupied, he quietly makes his way to a storage room to gather supplies for a private communication spell. He has to make sure no one finds out about what he’s about to do. Especially now. After performing the spell and giving Gadreel a location that should be secure, he needs to find an angel who he can bring with him, just in case. Hannah, while independent enough to help with leadership, would balk at the idea of Castiel meeting with the enemy. As he steps out into the main room, he notices the angel that discovered Ezra’s body. Eniel is a kind angel, one known for compassion. He asks to speak with her in his office, and he convinces her to come with him to the meeting and not tell anyone.

Later, while Castiel is waiting for Gadreel to arrive, he wonders if he can make this work. So many plans before have gone awry. But then he sees Eniel escorting Gadreel to where he’s waiting, and he thinks, _this just might work_.

Their discussion seems to go well, and Castiel uses honesty to his advantage, especially as one of the first things out of Gadreel’s mouth is his reputation for honor. This is what he had hoped for. He takes Gadreel’s use of past tense verbs as an indication that perhaps he is already second-guessing his loyalty to Metatron. But then, he is attacked. Gadreel disappears during the skirmish, and after the attackers have been dispatched, with the unfortunate loss of Eniel, Castiel wonders if the betrayal came from his side, or Gadreel’s.

When Castiel returns to base, he discovers the Winchesters have left. The other angels are visibly agitated about the presence of the hunters and them being allowed free rein of their base. He gathers up everybody for an impromptu meeting. Castiel stands at the head of the stairs that lead to his office, overlooking the assembled angels.

“I understand that some of you have expressed concern about my friends, the Winchesters. As you know, they were the two vessels that were supposed to house Michael and Lucifer.”

There’s an uncomfortable murmur from the crowd.

“However, they have done more than enough to prove themselves as allies, and I just want to let you know that I have absolute trust and faith in them, and I would appreciate if you could extend at least some of that courtesy to them as well.”

There's more murmuring through the crowd, and he feels he’s said enough.

“Um, thank you.”

As the angels disperse, he goes back into his office, shutting the door behind him. It’s past time for his “contemplation” and he closes the blinds before settling behind his desk wearily. He wishes he knew where Sam and Dean had gone, but doesn’t want to bother them by calling. He knows they will call him of they need assistance, but he still would have liked a note, at least. Reclining in his chair, he closes his eyes and tries to relax long enough to rest, at least for a moment.

 

* * *

 

His rest is interrupted by someone trying to communicate with him. It’s Gadreel, wishing for another meeting. Writing down the address given, he wonders if he should go. It could be a trap, if the ambush at their previous meeting had been orchestrated by him. However, if Gadreel is considering what Castiel said, this could be an opportunity to gather intel of Metatron’s plans. He looks at the clock, realizing he had slept for much longer than intended. Briefly considering another angel, he dismisses the idea, because if this is a trap he doesn’t want to lose another comrade.

Castiel finds himself in an alley next to a dilapidated house. Before exiting his car, he checks his surroundings carefully. When he is standing out in the open, he sees Gadreel approaching from the alley’s entrance, hands out to indicate lack of weapons. As the angel tries to convince Castiel the ambush was not his doing, he can’t help but continue looking around for possible signs of an attack.

“Why are you telling me this?”

He is encouraged when Gadreel mentions honor. He uses that and presses the issue of Metatron’s back-stabbing and two-faced tactics, stating that Gadreel is being used. When the angel shows reluctance to break his word, Castiel believes he has him. As a sign of faith, he tells Gadreel to stay as he is, but asks him to report on Metatron’s plans. When Gadreel wavers about the honor of such a tactic, Castiel reminds him how they are simply fighting back against dishonor, using available tactics. When he says, “Consider my offer,” he knows that the lack of ultimatum will allow Gadreel to think and doubt his current allegiance even more.

In his car once again and heading back to base, he thinks that Metatron may regret giving him the knowledge of thousands of years of human media. While he has trouble applying references to situations, he has used the common themes present in so many works to help with his operations. If Metatron plans on making him the villain, then he can use his own tactics against him to turn the tables.

 

* * *

 

Metatron makes his way to the cell where he’s holding Gabriel. Opening the door, he looks down at the diminished archangel that he personally saved from Lucifer’s wrath. It had taken some doing, having to use Naomi's tactics to rewrite Gabriel’s memories to make him think he had been in hiding all these years. Hiding him away in a small corner of Heaven had taken some doing as well, and he’d had the forethought to wait until after the angels had fallen to perform his rescue, so Gabriel was still at full power.

With the angel tablet in hand, he had bound Gabriel to it and himself using a blood-spell similar to the one Kali had used. It made the angel a battery, and Gabriel’s trickster magic had helped as the tablet didn’t grant him absolute power. The use of illusions gave him the ability to become the new God. With the use of human storytelling and an immense power source to draw from, he was almost ready for the completion of his plan. And a good thing too, because poor Gabriel’s Grace was weakening, the bindings not allowing his strength to replenish as it normally would.  Metatron would do something about that after his seat on the throne of Heaven was secure.

Gabriel doesn’t bother raising his head as Metatron looks him and his bindings over.

“I see you haven't attempted to change any of the sigils since last time Gabey. Good for you, because I like having you lucid. Too bad you refuse to talk to me any more. I used to enjoy our… ‘colorful’ discussions.”

With another look around the room to check the sigils, he leans closer to the ring of flame separating the archangel from freedom. “One thing I immensely enjoy is that _you can’t tell anyone_.” The sigils that keep Gabriel from telling Metatron’s plans had been tricky but brilliant, and it gave him someone he could gloat and boast to, as he didn’t trust anyone with his master plan, not even Gadreel. And that had proved accurate, as he had caught the damn ingrate meeting with Castiel behind his back. No matter, he can take care of everything as the next step in his plan gets underway.

Stepping back from Gabriel, who still refuses to acknowledge his presence, he throws a Nestle Chunky chocolate bar at him. It bounces off Gabriel's chest and lands between his knees, the silver wrapper reflecting the light of the holy fire.

“And don’t say I never got you anything.”

He turns to leave and pauses with his hand on the edge of the door. A ripple of illusion overtakes him and suddenly he’s taller, with thick dark hair, incredibly blue eyes and a tan overcoat.

“I’ll speak with you later, brother.” His voice is deep and gravelly. Closing the door, he walks down the hall. “I’ve got an army to lead.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have used multiple headcanons and have been inspired by other's work.  
> Metatron being dyslexic was inspired by [this Twitter comment.](https://twitter.com/curtisisbooger/status/449916297099218944)  
> Gabriel being bound was inspired by [this Tumblr post](http://consulting-cannibal.tumblr.com/post/83019480391/ohhh-metatron-mused-flipping-through-the-pages) and its accompanying [meta post.](http://consulting-cannibal.tumblr.com/post/82914888802/so-scout-gabriel)  
> The meeting where Castiel tells the angels to trust Dean and Sam is inspired by [this Tumblr post.](http://dirtyovercoats.tumblr.com/post/85679588328/robotmango-hes-the-commanders-friend-and-i)  
> The part about how Metatron acquired Gabriel is inspired by [this AO3 work.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1501331)  
> And the very end is my own personal headcanon of how he got the bombers to insist they worked for Castiel.


End file.
